


Penumbra

by Qualyn



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fantasy, Horror, Night-Gaunts, lovecraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 20:02:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1562312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qualyn/pseuds/Qualyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If only Sherlock would stop standing by his bedroom door, standing as still as the night outside their home.<br/>John started closing the door before going to sleep, but he could still see Sherlock’s shadow beneath the door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Penumbra

**Author's Note:**

> A short fic inspired by H.P. Lovecraft's poem [Night-Gaunts](http://wordsafterdark.blog.com/2011/01/23/night-gaunts-h-p-lovecraft-poem/)

 

From the moment he laid his eyes on Sherlock Holmes, John Watson knew he was not like everyone else. He seemed like his own brand of human being.

Something that the madman he now calls his flatmate seemed more than happy to prove him right.

“You really are something else”, he once said, shaking his head in fond exasperation.

If only he knew how right he was.

 

* * *

 

 

 

John noticed that in some ways Sherlock reminded him of a cat.

There was something about the way he greeted him when he arrived home. Or the way he seemed to be constantly plotting everyone’s demise just to keep the boredom at bay. Or how he sometimes sat, perched on the windowsill, looking down to the street below, watching everyone that passed by.

But mostly, John thought it was the way he could be so utterly silent when he moved. He once joked that he was going to make Sherlock wear a round bell.

After all, there were only so many scares a man can take.

 

* * *

 

Sherlock developed the habit to stare at John for as long as he could in the last week. John thought it was because he had been sharing 221B with the sleuth for over six months. The poor sod probably thought he wouldn’t have lasted so long. John was fine with it. He let Sherlock take his comfort in his own way, he wasn’t hurting anyone. Sure, it was unsettling, especially because he never seemed to blink, but few things about Sherlock didn’t make people feel like that.

If only he would stop standing by his bedroom door, standing as still as the night outside their home.

John started closing the door before going to sleep, but he could still see Sherlock’s shadow beneath the door.

 

* * *

 

 

It has been over a year now, and John has become a master in pretence.

He has learnt exactly what he should acknowledge and what he shouldn’t.

Sherlock isn’t many things, but a good teacher he surely is.

 

* * *

 

 

Night falls, and with it, a silence so thick John could choke on. He ignores it.

He doesn’t jump like a scared cat when a black, clawed and slender hand finds it’s place on his arm when he’s makes tea. He doesn’t look at it. He ignores it.

He’s fine with how the clock ticks but makes no sound. With how the people on telly mutey move their mouths even with the volume turned on. He ignores it.

He’s come to accept that when Sherlock so wishes, he can’t speak. He pretends the enforced silence is his decision all along. He ignores it.

He is less successful at ignoring mirrors and reflective surfaces after nightfall. He dreads them, but can’ resist their pull. Just like Sherlock.

So he tries to force himself to only look at him, at Sherlock, at his physical self. To the one that sits as still as a gargoyle, with eyes that seem to be able to gaze into his very soul, and with a mess of raven dark curls on top of his head.

He looks at the Sherlock Holmes he met at St.Barts, and not to the horned, winged and faceless black beast that he would see in a mirror.

He ignores it.

He ignores Sherlock Holmes.

 

 

 

**_"[...] But ho! If only they would make some sound,_ **

**_Or wear a face where faces should be found!"_ **

_Night-Gaunts by H.P.Lovecraft_


End file.
